Grandma's House: July 2009

Getting Skunked Today was the second time we took grandchildren fishing this summer. No doubt this conjures up picturesque visions of snow-topped mountains and fir trees, breezes blowing through your hair (Doug's crewcut?), azure lakes, wildflowers and fish jumping. Which is partly true. There was a mountain, plenty of greenery, and a pond. Three ponds, actually, mostly small. Also, mossy sea-weed-looking stringy stuff growing in the water which snagged our hooks when we cast our lines out or pulled them in, and had to be peeled off the line. A white plastic chair lay submerged near the edge, probably blown in by wind, and empty cartons plastic bottles or worm-cartons strewn around occasionally. Did I mention plenty of flies and two shaggy-looking black and white spotted dogs, both mellow and mildly interested in us? Two children, aged 13 and 8, Chalease and Dennis, were there to "help." Near the "gated" entrance to the trout farm was an old shed with a door that hung at a precarious angle and an ancient refrigerator which held cartons of worms and fish eggs. In the shed were some air rifles for shooting the cows across the street, which Nathan and Peter shot later. Peter later said that was his favorite part of the day! Also, some extra fishing poles leaned against an old table. Not much money invested here! Nature at its.... best? But there we were today, four young boys, a grandpa in a wheelchair, a grandma who hardly knew a trout from a shark, and an enthusiastic son-in-law. So off we went on our second fishing adventure. Last week we took Nathan, 13, and Peter, 5, (Livingston) with us. The air was pleasantly cool and gusty, blowing our lines where we didn't want them to go. Despite that, Doug caught the first fish, I caught one and Peter also. All in all, it amounted to 5 and 1/2 lbs of rainbow trout which we brought home and fried in butter for lunch. Yummy! After that success, we planned another outing today with two more grandchildren, Joseph 12, and Michael 10 (Soto.) Their father Cisco joined us, and Nathan and Peter again. This time the sun was hot, but still there was a slight breeze to keep the air pleasant. We plastered on some sunscreen and marched out to meet the fish. This time we arrived an hour earlier, so we felt confident the fish would bite soon. But as the hours dragged on, no one had caught a fish! Joseph had stepped unwittingly into the hole which Nathan stepped into twice last week, leaving his tennis shoes muddy and dripping. By then I had untangled Doug's line twice, cut and restrung it twice, and had threaded earthworms on his hooks. (This is not my normal preferred activity, but I have enough farmer in me to do it without shrinking, though if the worm wiggles a lot, I might jump! Amazing what necessity teaches.) Finally Cisco hollered, "I've got one! It's a big one!" And it was. About two-and-a-half pounds of beautiful gleaming, sun-glinting rainbow trout. Nathan grabbed it with a net (provided as a courtesy by the fish farm, all with holes in them) and we all shouted: "Careful! Don't let it get through the hole!" Then the hook was removed and the fish went from the pond to a 5-gallon bucket. No one caught another fish for an hour, but eventually Cisco caught another big trout, Michael caught a smaller fish, and Peter caught four tiny fish, including one that got away by flopping into a hole in the grass which drained back into the pond. The size of those small fish didn't dampen Peter's excitement one bit; he scarcely noticed they were nearly too tiny to eat! After four hours of fishing, we packed up our gear and left for home. Doug and I were skunked, as he says-- no bites for us. There was of course rivalry between everyone to see who could get the first fish, Doug being certain he would land the honor today, but luck would not have it. Nonetheless, we all left happy for the chance to share the challenge of landing these "stupid" creatures who race and jump to eat the dog food pellets thrown into the pond but are too smart to eat the juicy worms dangling on the hooks. Cisco caught his fish with the dogfood, but I couldn't seem to interest any. I must say, my casting was the best! (No fish to show for it, but I have to salvage my pride somehow!) We topped off the trip with lunch at Five Guys-- hamburgers and fries, natch. Cisco was beaming as he took his loot home to cook up for dinner with mango salsa and fresh herbs. Perfect ending of a perfect day. Except that we were skunked. Can't wait to go again. No pix for these trips; my camera is in the shop with shutter troubles. I feel lost without it. But I was too busy untangling fish line to take any pictures anyway. Come y'all down and we'll take ya fishin' with us!

It seems as though my dreams of a quiet retirement are just that. Dreams. Instead, I'm busy running a full time hotel this summer.

For the past three weeks I've had non-stop guests.
Rebecca was here for two weeks, mixed with Livingstons and Erls.

It was crazy at times. The house got very loud. And messy. Thank goodness I could escape to my beloved garden and regroup.
(In my Reliv shirt, of course.)

It was wonderful. Especially when I got the flu from Rebecca and got to try out my new clay water. Worked like a charm!

Here are some highlights:

Me, after receiving the news that Rebecca and all FOUR of her kids would be staying. At my house. For TWO weeks.

A picnic in the canyon.
The weather was gorgeous.
And so was the grilled chicken I made.

Biting my tongue as I watched Hayden eat a steady diet of Honey Nut Cheerios and, well, let me see, um, I guess that's it. Yes. Honey Nut Cheerios.
(Debs, call me. Let's talk nutrition!)

Watching Paige turn my plant into an elaborate fairy house, complete with carpet (moss), designer bedspreads (leaves colored with crayons), a landscaped entryway (with rocks Mitchell stole from the canyon), trees (sprigs from a nearby bush, plucked, and planted in front of the house), and berries.

Rejoicing in Jane's request for bananas dipped in Reliv.
Brilliant idea, if I do say so myself.

I was in the kitchen 24/7 while they were here. Cooking. Cleaning. Cooking. Cleaning. Cooking. And cleaning. But this moment, in particular, stands out.
Helping Mitchell make garlic bread.
(And by the way Rebecca, if you don't mind me saying, I think your family eats too much starch. Call me. Let's chat nutrition.)